


Father of Dragons

by Dreamwind



Series: Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Napoleonic Wars, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Animal Transformation, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:09:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4812713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamwind/pseuds/Dreamwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After unexpectedly dying, Harry finds himself in a past, forced to build a new life among vastly different cultures than his own. But a new title may help that along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**April 1803; The Forbidden City, China**

Harry sat in the room the Jiaqing Emperor had assigned to him while Prince Yongxing and the Emperor discussed Harry's arrival, and what he had done before Lung Tien Lien in the courtyard. Harry was more than a little worried that he had done something wrong, and he thought about escaping. Only the guards at the entryways and windows stopped that idea as soon as he had it. He also could not apparate away since he did not know any Chinese apparition points he could safely try as he was in the past of a foreign country, in a world that did not have magic in the first place. So he was stuck sitting here under guard as two strangers decided his fate. Again.

Outside his window he had a view into a lovely courtyard where Lung Tien Lien, Bodhi, the Jiaqing Emperor, and Prince Yongxing were all talking. The Emperor seemed to be spending a fair amount of time looking over Bodhi while also talking to the Prince and a man in a military uniform that Harry hadn't seen previously. Based on the elaborate style of the uniform Harry would hazard a guess that the man was a General or something similarly important.

Harry nervously tugged at his shirt hem, wondering what to do. He could cast a spell to allow him to hear what they were discussing, but without knowing Chinese it was a pointless act. He supposed he could use the book of spells Hermionie had written up during their time on the run. It was full of useful spells for living in the wild, healing, defense, and hiding. Surely she would have put in other useful things like translations spells in case they had to go to the mainland?

Harry glanced at the guard who stood in the room with him. The man's hand was still resting on the hilt of his sword, even though he was pretending not to be watching Harry. Every time Harry had caught him looking, the guard had glanced away nervously. Obviously the knowledge that Harry had brought to life a dragon from nothing but a hunk of stone had the man more than a little freaked out. Not that Harry blamed him. He could imagine how terrifying that would be for someone who had never seen real magic before.

"Master Potter, the Emperor and Prince Yongxing request your presence in the courtyard," stated the old interpreter, who Harry had learned was called Liu HuiDa.

"Very well."

Harry stood up and followed the old man out, the guard waited for Harry to pass before leaving his post to follow them into the courtyard. Harry ignored the guard's presence at his back, knowing there was nothing he could do to get the man to stand at his side or in front of him, short of using magic. He didn't want to do that since he wanted to make these people his allies, not his enemies. He had enough enemies for one lifetime, and now that he was possibly on his second it would be better if his number of friends was greater then his number of enemies. And an Emperor had an entire country he could make Harry's enemy. Taking a deep calming breath Harry forced himself to relax and enjoy the feeling of a cool breeze ruffling through his hair. The room he had been waiting in had been a bit stifling after a while, so it was nice to be outside again, and not just because this meant he would find out what was going to happen to him.

Bodhi wiggled about in pleasure at Harry's returned presence, calling out a greeting. Harry smiled at him before turning to face the Emperor, bowing deeply at his waist. He held his breath and counted to ten before allowing himself to rise gracefully from the waist up. Harry tried to ignore the 'tsk' that Lung Tien Lien made when he bowed. Obviously he didn't do it to proper Chinese protocol.

The Emperor seemed not to notice, being more interested in speaking to the interpreter than in watching Harry bow to him. When the Emperor had finished speaking he turned to face Harry directly, watching him with a curious, calculating gaze.

"The Great Jiaqing Emperor wishes to know what this dragon is called."

"I named him Bodhi, which means awakening or enlightenment in Sanskrit," replied Harry.

"What is his breed?"

"Oh!" Harry blushed in embarrassment. "He is an Ironbelly."

The interpreter inclined his head to Harry and turned to face the Emperor and Prince Yongxing. "Tā bǎ tā mìngmíng wèi Bodhi. Gāi pǐnzhǒng bèi chēng wèi Tiě-Lung."

"Tā kěyǐ zhuàn gèng duō? Nàxiē gèng lìng rén gāoxìng de yǎnguāng lái kàndài," asked the Emperor.

"The Emperor now wishes to know if you can make another dragon. One different from this one," he waved at Bodhi who had gone back to lounging comfortably on the polish stones of the courtyard, his long tail coiling around Harry. "Perhaps more pleasing to look upon."

"I can try. I have seen only a few dragons before, none quite as lovely as Lady Lung Tien Lien."

The old man's eyebrow rose at his comment about Lien, but he repeated Harry words. Prince Yongxing seemed pleased by Harry's words if the soft look in his eyes was any indication. The Emperor merely nodded for Harry to do as he directed. With a single wave of his hand, the guards stepped back, making room for Harry to cast his magic.

Glancing about Harry realized he needed something he could transfigure. "Does anyone have a stone or something else I might use to first form the body from?"

The old man pursed his lips, but reached into his robes pulling out a small stone pendant. He seemed reluctant to hand it over, but after a quick glance at the two royals from the corner of his eyes, he reached out to gently place it in Harry's open palm.

"Thank you."

Harry closed his eyes trying to remember the image of the dragons he had seen with Hagrid the night before the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. The one he could picture most clearly was the Horntail, but he didn't have the best memories of her. No he wanted more oriental. A lightbulb went off in his head, and Harry carefully placed his other hand over the top of the palm holding the stone. He pictured the dragon he wanted as clearly as possible in his mind. The jewel-like gleam of the scarlet colored scales of its serpentine body, the contrast of its crown of golden horns that formed what closely resembled a lions mane, the almost snub-nose appearance in comparison to other dragons, the long delicate look of the almost fan like wings, and the fiercely intelligent look in its jade colored eyes.

Without opening his eyes Harry concentrated on the image in his mind and began to cast the spells to transfigure the piece of jade jewelry into an animated dragon. He could feel the necklace heat up in his hand, moving like water around his palm in serpent like coil. Just before the heat grew too great, it cooled down until it was merely as warm as his own body.

With a released sign Harry opened his eyes, lifted his top hand off, and smiled down at the small dragon curled up in his palm. The dragon gazed up at him, and let out of huff of breath.

"It is quite small," the old man stated in a disappointed voice. "Though it's scales are a most pleasing shade of scarlet."

"This is just the first step. I shall set it down now, then enlarge it and call a soul to it."

"What do you mean by 'call a soul to it'?"

Harry set the little dragon statue down on the ground, stroking a finger down the length of its back before standing upright. "Just...well it is not truly alive yet. It has no soul."

The old man made a humming noise in the back of his throat, before turning to relay Harry’s words again to the Emperor. The Emperor looked thoughtful as he gazed down at the little coiled dragon, but after a moment he motioned for Harry to proceed.

Trying to find that place inside himself again that had directed him how to give life to Bodhi, Harry carefully, if a bit slowly, began to cast the magic. The guards shifted in readiness as a wind stirred up around Harry, tugging at his hair and robes before swirling about the small the dragon statue. He could almost imagine he heard a voice on the wind as the magic moved faster and faster around the statue, growing it larger and larger, until it was nearly 110 feet long, longer even than Bodhi who as only 102 feet long from nose to tail-tip.

The voices of the guards, as well as the two royals rose in excitement as the dragon stretched herself out, eyes blinking slowly, wings fluttering at the tips as they stretched wide. With a soft sigh, the dragon settled herself in a graceful coil between Harry and the others present. When Harry looked up at her, he caught her gaze and marvel at the flecks of emerald in the jade colored depths.

"What is this one called?"

If possible, Harry thought, the dragon look amused by the stunned expressions of the men around her. And once she spoke he was certain of her amusement in them.

"I do not have a name yet. Though I would not mind having one. Something that would reflect on my beauty perhaps?" She gazed down at the old interpreter, a smile filling her eyes.

The old man looked from her to the Emperor in a panic, speaking too quickly for Harry to make a guess at what he said. The Emperor seemed almost as amused as the dragon as he watched the older man panic, before calmly speaking to him as if what they had just witnessed was no strange sight.

"The Emperor says I might name you, if it would please you my Lady."

"It would."

He turned to address Harry. "What is her breed?"

"She is a Fireball."

"Huǒqiú-Lung," he muttered to himself. "Then I shall call you Lung Huǒqiú Liang."

"Bright One...Yes, I like that name."

"I am most glad to hear you say so. Liang was my mother's name," HuiDa said with a sad smile.

"Then I am doubly honored."

"Father," whined Bodhi. "This is all very boring. Can't we go flying? I would like to go flying. Or maybe to eat. Yes, I am hungry."

"Oh, do stop whining," snapped Liang. "You are making a spectacle of yourself."

HuiDa smiled at the two dragons before looking back at Harry. Harry smiled back, wobbling on his feet until he stumbled back into Bodhi, suddenly feeling very weak. The dragons made panicked sounds, but Harry hardly noticed as his eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.

 

*~*~*~* HP/TEMER *~*~*~*

 

**Three Days Later; The Forbidden City, China**

When Harry woke up he wasn't sure if he was awake. Everything that had happened certainly seemed like a dream. But the room he was in certainly didn't seem like it belonged in Hogwarts, or even a Muggle hospital. What little he could make out without his glasses, screamed opulence, not hospital ward. There was nothing resembling the smell of bleach, there was no mechanical sounds, or the pall of death that lingered around a hospital. No, it was certainly wasn't one. The air was sweet and clear, with just a hint of spices musk that reminded him of the Triwizard Tournament, the bed was not like a hospital bed at all. It was large, plush, and he could make out the edges of drapery closing it partially off from the rest of the room.

Sitting up, Harry squinted into the room beyond the curtains, trying to make out if his glasses were nearby. Not seeing them right away he pushed at the curtain with his right hand, and carefully slid out of the bed, standing on shaky legs. The room seemed to only slightly larger than the Gryffindor boys dorms, but there the similarities ended. The floors were polished wood, the walls were blurry enough he couldn't make out what they were made of, but there were larger circular windows letting in a warm breeze, and a larger doorway at the far side of the room. Blinking slowly, Harry stumbled over to small table between the bed and one of the windows. Sliding his hand across its surface he waited for his fingers to bump into his glasses, picking them up and putting them on.

For a moment he thought he might still be dreaming. He pinched himself on his arm, blinking slowly as he realized he was awake. Which meant none of it had been a dream, and he was in fact in ancient China. If he stepped outside he would be likely to find talking dragons, as well as the splendor of the Imperial gardens. His legs gave out and Harry found himself sitting on the floor only a few feet away from the door, the breeze coming in causing his shaggy locks to flitter slightly. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard he thought it might actually leap out of his chest. One hand reaching up to clutch at his chest, Harry tried to calm down. He didn't need to panic, he had lived through worse things than being lost in the past of an apparent alternate universe. So what if magic didn't really exist here, or maybe just wasn't known of. So what if there were talking dragons. So what....so what if none of his friends were here. He had spent most of his life alone without anyone to call a friend. Just because he had been lucky enough to have multiple friends for the last seven years didn't mean he couldn't do without again.

"Father," came a voice from the courtyard. "Are you awake now?"

"Hush, Bodhi," came a no-nonsense feminine voice. "Father is likely still sleeping. It must be tiring to give life to such large and impressive beings as ourselves."

"But it has been three days," whined Bodhi.

"So what? Let him sleep and when he is ready he will awaken."

“Wha,” Harry mumbled confused. For a moment he tried to deny the memory of just what he had done.

“Father,” cried an excited voice from outside.

Harry looked up from the floor, jumping back in surprise at the massive face blocking the doorway, one large wine red eye peering at him. Outside the door a massive Ironbelly, bigger than the one he had released from Gringotts, was wiggling about like an over excited puppy.

“Father,” it, he, cried out again. “You are awake! He’s awake! I told you so!”

If he had been standing he would have dropped to the floor. He had done the impossible again.

“So Lung Tiě Bodhi is correct. You have awoken.”

Harry released a shaky breath and looked at the old man pushing his way past Bodhi’s massive head, to enter the room. He was dressed in robin’s egg blue robes with creamy purple and mint green accents, which reminded him of Dumbledore’s robes. The old interrupters near black eyes gazed at him in an assessing manor, taking in the way Harry’s hands shook ever-so-slightly.

“I…” Harry swallowed, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He released it slowly, taking another and another until his hands stop shaking. “How long was I asleep?”

“Three days.” HuiDa gave Harry a pleased glance at his now steady hands. turning to face the door, he lightly called out to someone on the other side in Chinese. “Come. Sit with me. Tea will be brought along with something to break your fast.”

Harry pushed to his feet, dusting off his bottom out of habit, more than a need to, and followed the older man to where a low table and some seats were situated next to one of the other windows. As they sat two servants came in. One carried an elaborate covered wooden tray which she gently set down on a low table opposite from them. She removed the cover and Harry realized that on the tray was what appeared to be a tea set made in the most beautiful white porcelain, with intricate red birds painted on. As he watched the young woman poured water into a kettle, heating it over the stove built into the table. As the water in the kettle warmed she carefully removed the teapot from the tray, setting it, and the two teacups, into the warm water.

“It wasn’t a dream then? I really am in…in China?”

“You are indeed in China, Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn.” HuiDa inclined his head slightly.

Harry licked his lips, leaning back as the second woman placed another porcelain bowl in front of HuiDa, filled with what appeared to be some kind of porridge. A second plate that had several fretting steamed buns was set in between himself and HuiDa, before she placed a matching bowl or the porridge in front of the Harry. “What does that mean? Show..long de fu…gin?”

HuiDa winced at the butchered words. “It means ‘Father of Dragons.’ We shall have to start your training on being able to speak properly as soon as you have finished your morning meal.”

“Father of dragons,” Harry whispered to himself confused until he glanced out the window again to where Bodhi and Liang were quietly watching him. “You are going to teach me Chinese?”

“I shall try. If you can learn to speak Cantonese or Mandarin remains to be seen.”

Harry was about to respond that he was hardly stupid, but bit his tongue as the woman who had carried the food, bowed deeply to them, her gaze never reaching his, before backing out of the room. Harry watched her, confused by her behavior.

“Eat, Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn. Your congee will get cold.”

“Congee?”

“A mild-flavored rice porridge. It is easy on the stomach so you should have no trouble with it after your long rest.”

“And the buns?”

“Baozi.”

“Bow…Z,” Harry tried to repeat.

“Close. Try again. It is Baozi.”

“Bao…zi?”

“Better.” HuiDa lifted his spoon, and with great care dipped it into his congee.

Harry watched the man take a bite before mimicking him. HuiDa was right, the porridge was very mild-flavored. It was in fact very bland tasting in comparison to the rich flavors he was used to getting at Hogwarts. However, it was by far better than some of the food Hermione and himself had eaten on their year on the run. He was hardly going to be a picky eater after his years with the Durselys, let alone after a year of eating whatever they could find without going into populated areas.

“Thank you,” Harry said quietly, his eyes meeting HuiDa’s.

The older man watched him for a moment and Harry felt like he did under Dumbledore’s gaze, as if the man could see into his soul. He seemed pleased, and worried, by what he saw in Harry’s eyes. “Thanks are not needed. You have done the Emperor a great service by creating the two dragons. The Emperor is most pleased by them.”

“Still…” Harry stopped as the second woman approached them, her tray once again in hand. The teapot was set in the center, two delicate cups placed next to it. Steam was rising in a gentle, swirling dance from the spout, filling the air with a heavenly scent and Harry closed his eyes, enjoying the smell. It wasn’t Earl Gray, like the house elves usual gave him, but it smelt like home all the same.

The young woman kneeled next to them and with practiced care lifted the tea pot, pouring the steaming amber liquid into the two cups, before settling the teapot back on the try and backing away. Harry lifted the cup, breathing in the scent of the tea in a long inhale through his nose. Pleased, he took a sip, savoring the flavor before setting the cup back down.

The breakfast continued much the same between them. Comfortable silence interspaced with polite conversation, and HuiDa gently instructing Harry with words for each team they ate, and what filled the room. They emptied the pot of tea, their bowls on congee, and demolished the spinach and pork filled steamed buns.

Once they had finished Harry had thought for sure he would be led into the courtyard where the dragons waited, Bodhi not so quietly. But instead HuiDa had taken the time to explain to Harry about the situation he found himself in. If he had not done the impossible in front of Lung Tien Lien, Prince Yongxing, and the Emperor, then he would have been executed for trespassing. Instead the Emperor, consulted by Prince Yongxing, had decided to let Harry live as he was obviously not human. The Prince had spoken about Gods and Spirits, and now everyone in the Forbidden City knew Harry was Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn, a God of dragons and magic.

Not sure about any of it, Harry had none-the-less accepted that for now he would be living in Prince Yongxing’s section of the palace and HuiDa would be assigned as his instructor in courtly behavior and language. In return Harry was expected to teach what, if any, magic he could to men chosen by the Emperor himself, and to possibly create more dragons. Though the Emperor had been “kind” enough to say that was not needed right away since Harry was still recovering from being dead. And that story had also apparently made it’s way through the court already and some of the servants and soldiers had been calling him Sǐwáng Xué Shuòshì, the Master of Death. There had even been whispers in the court, HuiDa tells him, that Harry would be tasked with learning the arts of war and training others in it as well as in his magic, creating the perfect bodyguards for the royal family.

Harry tried to explain that he had no formal training in war. But HuiDa waved his concerns away, stating that he would be taught by General Lung Shao Chu and General Ma Sayoran. Sighing, Harry had agreed to learning more. He was stuck in the past, at least two hundred years back at a guess, with no way home. His only option was to accept whatever help they were willing to offer, and adapt to his new life. He was good at adapting after all. They talked for hours, HuiDa learning everything he could of Harry’s past, both good and bad, and what little of the future Harry was willing to share. Harry had been honest in his telling that his knowledge of world history was poor, his last history teacher being a ghost who did not realize he was dead, and had an obsessive compulsion to teach them only of the Goblin wars. Still, he recounted what he could, HuiDa taking copious notes on a scroll that was quickly provided for him by the young woman who had merely sat in the corner of the room while they had eaten.

HuiDa had been intrigued by Harry's explanation of parseltongue, which HuiDa called Shétou de shé, the tongues of serpents. The servant girl had been sent to have a soldier find a snake so that they might test Harry’s skill. By that time, four hours had passed and they had been forced to relocate into the garden due to Bodhi’s constant whining to see Harry. Currently Harry was resting against Bodhi’s chest, the tip of the dragon’s tail tapping the ground to Harry’s left. Liang was seated across from Bodhi, HuiDa sitting in the palm of her hand. Several guards were standing nearby, watching silently as the snake was set down in front of Harry.

Harry greeted the snake with a hiss, complimenting it on its red and black pattern being quite striking.

The snake seemed surprised at being spoken to, but pleased about the compliments. After a short conversation Harry was able to get the snake to climb up his arm until it rested over his shoulders. The wave of voices around him increased as the snake then moved down his other arm and came to a stop at his feet.

After a brief bit of cajoling, Harry got one of the guards to come forward so that the snake could repeat the maneuver. Then he managed to convinced the guards to step forward and place their hand on the shoulder of the guard to their left so that the snake could travel across their shoulders like a bridge until it reached the end. Then Harry place his hand, palm up in front of the snake, showing his vulnerable flesh to the animal before calmly asking it to across over to him. It wasn’t anything impressive as far as he was concerned but the men seemed suitably impressed, especially after Harry was advised that the snake was a Banded Red Snake, which was venomous. After that Harry better understood how impressed the men were.

More test were done with the guards, dragons, and HuiDa watching. Harry was asked about other spells he could do, showing as many as he could that wouldn’t cause the guards to panic. Simple levitation charms, charms to change the color of clothes, transfiguration in many varied forms, examples of defense spells, and even the animagus transformation, something Harry had only completed a few weeks before the final battle. Something that had saved his life on at least one occasion so far.

He had even, for a moment, been tempted to reveal that he could summon the souls of the departed back using the Ring. But figured being able to create living dragons on top of normal magic already made him weird enough. He would hide those other skills.

For now.


	2. Chapter 2

**May 1803; The Forbidden City, China**  
  
  
A month passed quickly. Perhaps too quickly, Harry often thought. He adapted to life in the Chinese Imperial Court with an ease that surprised many of the Chinese men who made up the Emperor’s court. Harry didn’t bother to explain that he had learned years ago to reshape himself to fit in rather than to stand out. He had learned to fit the molds that people made for him; The Secret Hidden Under the Stairs, The Delinquent, The Orphan, The Boy-Who-Lived, and The Savior. Becoming just another version of himself, The Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn, was easy. He simply shuffled off the skin that belonged to The Savior and let himself find the edges of who the Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn was.   
  
It was made easier because of the lessons with HuiDa and General Lung Shao Chu. They were teaching him more than perhaps they realized. For once Harry wasn’t afraid to let his Slytherin side out. He needed it more now in order to survive. The only reason he had not been executed for being a sorcerer was because he was a useful sorcerer. The Emperor liked that he was able to create dragons unlike any others, and if he was given the impression that Harry could be tamed, then that was fine too. All that mattered was surviving until he held enough power of his own so that those in the court who did not like having a sorcerer, much less an English sorcerer, in the court, could not kill him without repercussion. So he did whatever was needed to make him look friendly and dutifully impressed by the grandeur around him. He followed the lesson given to him with the same fierce passion that allowed him to survive six years at Hogwarts and another year on the run hunting down and destroying horocruxes while avoiding the Death Eaters. He learned all about China, all about the art of warfare, he learned about dragons and people. He learned.  
  
His ability to learn and grasp new things so quickly impressed his instructors and scared others. He knew there were plots afoot, but he ignored them as much as he could without risking his life unnecessarily. General Chu found him a mentor to teach him sword skills and another for martial arts, even as the General taught him tactics and the role of each of the dragon breeds of China. HuiDa continued his training in culture, history, etiquette, and language all the while, silently training Harry about who to trust and how to tell who was your enemy.  
  
And so the month passed quickly.  
  
He worked with Bodhi and Liang in his off hours. Teaching them about what they should be able to do. How to control their fire, how to do flight maneuvers he had used in Quidditch, how to use their sizes to their advantage against bigger or smaller opponents, and how smaller opponents might try to attack them. He taught them everything he could and spent hours sitting in his garden with them telling them stories from his world. He read to them from The Beetle and The Bard, and more from Grimm’s Complete Fairytales. And if he slipped in his own life story under the disguise of a fairytale, well, only he would know it.  
  
He enjoyed those hours the best. He enjoyed the serenity that came with leaning against one of them, reading and weaving stories. And as the month came to a close he didn’t even mind so much the guard who stayed in the shadows watching him, or the children who occasionally snuck into his corner of the palace, to listen to him. He found himself enjoying the silent companionship the children provided.   
  
He didn’t want to disturb that companionship but he did eventually bring himself to speaking to HuiDa about them, asking him if he knew who the children were. It turned out that most of them belonged to servants living in the palace, but there were a few who who were children of courtiers, soldiers, and even the Imperial Family as well. The twins, Li Bin Han and Li Feng, and Gong Su were there almost every day. The three of them were by far the most intrigued by Harry and the dragons. Not that Liang was with him all the time. In fact she really spent most of her time with HuiDa, going home with him each night and returning each day to the palace with him, whereas Bodhi stayed in Harry’s garden at night, only leaving Harry when he was sent to his own schooling.  
  
The threesome, quickly became his favorite of the children. They were also the first to actually approach him and sit down next to him during what Harry had silently come to call “story hour.” After another week they even began to greet him verbally. The week after that Gong Su brought pastries and steamed buns filled with spiced meat cooked by his mother in the palace kitchens.   
  
“Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away,” Harry sung softly, strumming the guitar he had convinced HuiDa to have made for him. “Now it looks as though they're here to stay. Oh, I believe in yesterday.”  
  
Gong Su peeked around the corner of the wall, scampering into the garden as if the guard couldn’t see him, the twins and two other palace children trailing behind him. They seemed surprised to hear him singing, but paused only momentarily before coming to sit in their usual places. They sat quietly, just listening to Harry sing. By now he knew that all of them could speak English, or at least had picked up enough of it to enjoy his stories.  
  
“Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be. There's a shadow hanging over me. Oh, yesterday came suddenly.”  
  
Harry smiled warmly at them, but continued to sing. He carefully watched how they interacted with each other, as always enjoying the simple pleasure of their presence at his side.   
  
“Why she had to go? I don't know, she wouldn't say. I said something wrong, Now I long for yesterday.”    
  
Harry watched one of the twins, Bin Han, carefully whispering in Maylin’s ear. Most likely she was translating his words for her. Maylin was the youngest of his children, and the daughter of one of the Emperor’s concubines. She only came by about once a week, so her English wasn’t very good, but she, like all of them, was learning quickly enough. Give it a year and he had no doubt that all of them would be perfectly fluent in English.   
  
“Yesterday love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday.”  
  
Harry let a little of his aching loneliness at the loss of his self and his friends tinge his voice, carefully watching the children from under his lashes to see if any of them caught the change in tone of voice. Most of them seemed to pause, there were a couple a slightly tilted heads, a few crinkled brows, and at least one who hadn’t seemed to catch the change in his voice as he sang. Harry wasn’t too worried about that one. The boy was destined to be a book keeper like his father. He wasn’t likely to have to worry about political intrigue.  
  
“Why she had to go? I don't know, she wouldn't say. I said something wrong. Now I long for yesterday.”  
  
Still, Harry wanted the boy to catch on like the others had. He didn’t know why just yet. But there was something telling him he needed as many of them on his side as he could possibly sway. He didn’t have all the answers, but he was so used to trusting his gut and his magic that he didn’t much care for the ‘why’ at the moment. He ignore it, pushing the concerns to the back of his mind and just let himself go on enjoying the brief respite he got at the end of the day.  
  
“Yesterday love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday…” Harry’s voice trailed off.  
  
“Is sad song,” asked Gong Su.  
  
Harry smiled. Gong Su was perhaps his brightest little star. The first to approach him, the first to speak to him, and so far the fastest to pick up English. “I suppose it is.”  
  
“You are sad, master Potter?”  
  
“No,” Harry smiled at his children. “Just a little wistful, perhaps.”  
  
The children, those who understood more than two words of English, nodded knowingly.   
  
Gong Su, the unoffical leader of the little flock, spoke up again. “Will you tell us another story?”  
  
Harry smiled and leaned back against Bodhi’s side, comforted by the gentle motion of his body as it breathed in and out.“Why not.”   
  
Harry thought for a long moment on what story he should read them this time. Mostly he had just been telling them the few stories he remembered off the top of his head, like The Three Brothers. Which had left Gong Su giving him strange looks for a week, and Harry was starting to suspect the boy knew more about his arrival than any child of a cook should. Feeling a bit mischievous, Harry cast a silent spell Hermione had taught him while they were on the run.  
  
With a soft ‘pop’ a small leather-bound book appeared in his lap. It was a rich earthy brown color with cream pages. The cover was a simple debossed design. It had the title at the top, a strange symbol that looked like two capital R letters resting back-to-back, joined down the middle by a capital T and a capital J. Below that was the authors name. Smiling Harry opened the book, watching the children scoot eagerly closer.  
  
“This book was written before I was born and I am told it was a favorite of my mother’s. It is rather famous back home. Full of magic, war, monsters, Gods, and gold. Listen carefully and see if you can figure out what lessons it is meant to impart to the reader. Alright?”  
  
The children all nodded eagerly causing Harry’s smile to widen further.  
  
“Very well then,” Harry cleared his throat and began to read. “Chapter 1. An unexpected party.” Harry glanced up at them briefly, catching sight of the guards moving close enough to hear as well. “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.”  
  
  
*~*~*~* HP/TEMER *~*~*~*  
  
  
 **Later That Evening; Prince Yongxing’s Quarters**  
  
  
“Please sit,” the Prince waved imperiously towards the small chair near where he lounged comfortably on his bed.   
  
The Prince was dropped in fine silk sleeping robes of dark blue and gold which pooled about him in a manner that was meant to draw a persons gaze across his body and up to his face. His long black hair was, for the first time in Harry’s memory, loose, draping gracefully over his shoulders. A part of Harry was nervous to be here, but mostly he was curious. Despite it being Prince Yongxing’s word that had spared his life upon his arrival, Harry knew from the whispers of his children, that the Prince did not like foreigners. This contradictory nature in his relationship with the Prince quite baffled him.    
  
Still, Harry had come at the Prince’s call, feeling almost eager to see what would happen. He supposed that he had grown used to rushing in to dangerous situation with little caution to his own well being. So, as he had stood outside the door, waiting to enter, he had forced himself to calm down and pay attention. He needed to be aware of the room and everything, and everyone, in it. To that end he took care to carefully look about the room as he had walked in. He had been distracted by the rather sensual appearance of the Prince at first, but he had shook it off quickly enough and went back to taking in the room.  
  
Besides the door he had entered in through there were really only two options for escape if needed. The screen door, which likely opened out to his private courtyard where Lung Tien Lien’s gazebo was located, and the window behind the prince. The large window in the wall behind the Prince, also seemed designed to open into the same courtyard because through it Harry could see Lung Tien Lien lounging as well, her piercing gaze watching him carefully.  
  
“The guards tell me you have been telling the children of the palace some rather interesting tales.”  
  
Harry licked his lips, eyes quickly darting between the Prince and his dragon companion. “I have, your Highness. I do hope I have not done something wrong by doing so?”  
  
Prince Yongxing waved his concerns off with a single flick of the wrist. “You use this to learn our language better. You teach them the languages of the west in this manner?”  
  
“I suppose I do.” Harry shrugged with false nonchalance. “I can be good enough with languages when immersed and I have been told it makes it easier for people to learn that way as well.”  
  
“To what goal do you teach them to speak like the English?”  
  
Harry shrugged again and tried to project an air of calm even as he began to feel more worried. “You have ports open to the men of the west. They come into the cities now. Eventually, your people will need to be able to speak and understand what they say verses what they mean. If for no other reason than to ensure they are not cheated with the goods they trade.”  
  
“Oh,” inquired the Prince, one sculpted eyebrow arching delicately.  
  
“HuiDa took me for a flight over the country and we stopped in Canton where a French ship was moored.” Harry pursed his lips, his distaste for what he witnessed clear on his expressive face. “The ceramics they buy, the ones with lovely blue paintings.”  
  
The Prince nodded for Harry to continue.  
  
“Your people are selling them for a third of what they are actually worth to the West. The wealthy families of the west pay gold for those and your people are getting trinkets for them. They should be asking for a lot more in money or trade for each piece. At least half a British pound, maybe more. I am sure the British and the French increase the cost of them once imported into their own countries so that they may make a larger profit for themselves.”  
  
The Prince’s second eyebrow rose as well. It appeared to Harry that the Prince had not realized how valuable the pieces were in trade. His eyebrows dropped back down, brow furrowing in anger at the way his people were once again being treated by the western kingdoms. “Your words are wise and honest. Not what is expected of a westerner.”  
  
Harry smiled sadly. “I’m not really a westerner though, am I? These people are not my people. It is not even my Briton.”  
  
The Prince watched Harry curiously, his sharp gaze softening just the tiniest bit. Harry sifted a little uneasily. He still wasn’t used to the Prince’s presence. The Prince, and the Royal Family, pretty much left him to HuiDa, General Chu, and General Sayoran’s care. They rarely asked for his presence or his advice.  
  
They spent what felt like hours just watching each other. Eventually the Prince smiled and relaxed his pose even further, his silk robe parting just enough to flash a long strip of caramel colored skin. “I wish you to tell me these stories as well. This tale of The Three Brothers, and the one of The Hobbit.”  
  
Harry released the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, the rigidity in his shoulders suddenly giving way as he realized the Prince wasn’t angry with him, simply pleased. And perhaps a bit curious. “I would be glad to.”  
  
With a glance over to the window, where he could see the great pink eyes of Lung Tien Lien watching him, Harry relaxed himself into a more comfortable position and tried desperately to ignore the tempting strip of flesh the Prince left uncovered. He did not need a book this time, for he had long since memorized the tale of The Three Brothers, it being a favorite of his children here.   
  
Taking a long slow breath, Harry let the magic of the story settle over him like a favorite cloak, and began to speak.  
  
  
*~*~*~* HP/TEMER *~*~*~*  
  
  
 **2 Days Later; Harry’s Courtyard**  
  
  
“Under the Mountain dark and tall, the King has come unto his hall! His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread, and ever so his foes shall fall,” Harry smiled to himself as the children and the guard moved closer. “The sword is sharp, the spear is long, the arrow swift, the Gate is strong; The heart is bold that looks on gold; The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.”  
  
Hidden in the doorway to the courtyard was Prince Yongxing. None of the others had noticed him yet, though they surely would if they happened to look behind them. He was unsure why he had felt the need to come to the courtyard of the Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn, but come he had. Perhaps it was that he had so enjoyed listening to the young man read to him the other night. He had never heard stories such as those that Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn had told him. Perhaps it had been what was in his voice as Harry had told him the tale of The Three Brothers?   
  
Harry felt his heart flutter in his chest at the sight of the prince, nearly stumbling over his words. He didn’t know why he should feel so excited to see the prince here, but he was. It felt like he was drunk on champagne, all bubbly and swooning.  
  
“The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, while hammers fell like ringing bells in places deep, where dark things sleep, in hollow halls beneath the fells. On silver necklaces they strung the light of stars, on crowns they hung the dragon-fire, from twisted wire the melody of harps they wrung.”  
  
The prince caught his eye again as he tilted his head, just slightly, so that it rested lightly against the doorframe. If Harry had to guess, he thought the prince might be amused by the sight of the children and the guards all sitting at Harry’s feet as he read to them. Their faces were filled with eager anticipation, that was so open, so raw it hurt just a little to see because it was a look filled with ghosts. So many ghosts that he had left behind.  
  
“The mountain throne once more is freed! O! Wandering folk, the summons heed! Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste! The king of friend and kin has need. Now call we over mountains cold, ‘Come back unto the caverns old’! Here at the Gates the king awaits, his hands are rich with gems and gold. The king is come unto his hall under the mountain dark and tall. The worm of Dread is slain and dead, and ever so our foes shall fall!”  
  
“But why did they kill the dragon,” chimed out a voice from the courtyard on the other side of the wall.  
  
Harry’s mouth twisted into a small smile for a second, lips trembling as he tried not to laugh. Above the top of the wall he could make out a young girl clinging to the head of a young scarlet and gold dragon. The young girl was a pretty little thing, pale as fine porcelain, with long dark hair coiled atop her head and held in place by jade pins. Harry didn’t recognize her, or the young dragon she rode atop, but he did recognize the dragons species as one of the more common ones in the armed forces, in fact it was the same species General Lung Shao Chu.  
  
“That is a fine question, young lady.” Harry smiled at her, his eyes twinkling as the other listeners had spun about in place, the guards paling at the sight of the prince. “Have you been listening since I started the tale?”  
  
The girl flushed slightly. “No, Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn. I only started to listen when they came across the spiders.”  
  
Harry nodded, setting his book down in his lap. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking of how he should address her question. “This tale is not like the tales your parents or the monks told you. This tale takes place in another world. A world that exists only in the minds of the author and the readers.”  
  
“Oh,” she said intrigued. She crawled up higher onto the wall so that she was fully atop it, her dragon scrabbling along beside, stretching his neck for a better view.   
  
“In this world dragons aren’t as numerous as they are here, and they aren’t the help friends we have either. In this world the dragons that do exist are few in number, which the inhabitants are thankful for. For the dragons of this world were created by a servant of a merciful God, a servant who was twisted by a vengeful God into creating monstrous dragons whose only purpose was destruction. They were not guardians. They were not protectors or soldiers. They were not friends, or brothers. They were fire and death made flesh.”   
  
Harry closed his eyes, fighting away the memories. So many memories that were nothing but danger, fire, and death.  
  
When he opened his eyes he could still see the lingering gaze of the horntail starring him down from above her nest, flames lapping at the air around her mouth. He could still smell his robes burning, he could still hear the students screaming for help and in fear. He could still see the shock on Voldemort’s face as the Elder Wand betrayed him.   
  
“Suffice it to say the dragon, Smaug, is not like our fine fellows here in China. He is a wild dragon, one who stole into the King’s palace and killed all who lived there, save a few lucky escapees.”  
  
Harry closed the book, resting it on his knees, hands resting atop the soft leather cover.   
  
“I want you to imagine that you had never seen a dragon, you had heard only stories of them. Now imagine that you saw one. A dragon so massive it blocked out the light of the sun. Now imagine it was a foreign dragon, a…a French dragon for example. This massive French fire breather comes out of nowhere, burning down the village outside the walls of the palace, gobbling up all the people it came across before breaking through the palace walls, killing the guards, killing the princesses and the princes, before chasing down the Emperor so that he could kill him and take all the riches of China as his own.”  
  
The girls eyes widened, horrified by the very idea, before a steely resolve filled them. “Our dragons would stop him. No western dragon can match ours.”  
  
“Perhaps,” replied Harry. “But in this story the dwarves do not have any dragons of their own as friends and allies. Their only way to protect their people is send the non-combatants into the shelter of the mountain while the warriors take to arms. Their only protection is to kill what threatens them with their own hands. If China was threatened by an invading force that was so much more massive, so much more dangerous, than anything here could compare to…would you not stop at anything to protect your people?”  
  
“Of course not. If my life saved the empire,” the girl took a deep breath. “If it save the villages, and the princes and princess…if it saved the Emperor…then I would cast it aside like ash on the wind.”  
  
Harry smiled. “Death before dishonor…”  
  
“Sir,” asked one of the guards.  
  
“It was a saying from another great tale.” Harry smiled. “This was a very long series of stories that took place over a period of two hundred years. This story took place far into the future.” Harry crept forward, leaning towards his audience. “In a time when mankind was united as one people. In a time when we had made our way into the stars, crossing from star to star to see all worlds that circled them.”  
  
Harry smiled as he noticed the Prince straighten up, interest sparked in his eyes.   
  
“The author of the tales created alien races shoes cultures were inspired by cultures on Earth, but also by his own ideals of what society should become. The saying ‘Death before dishonor’ came from one of those races. He called them Klingons. And they were a warrior people. I think you might also like another of their sayings…”  
  
Harry smiled, a wicked grin. “Today is a good day to die.”  
  
“I do not understand?”  
  
Harry smiled sadly, knowingly. “Today is never truly a good day to die. Not unless your death protects the people you love most. But among the Klingons death in battle was the most honorable way to die.”’  
  
The girl sighed. “Is suppose I understand.”  
  
Harry let his smile relax into something more real. “You need not understand yet. Hopefully you would never need to understand. But perhaps I could leave with another few words of wisdom…All that is needed for Evil to triumph is for Good men, and women, to do nothing.” Harry looked t them all carefully, slowly. “I would like you to think on that tonight.”  
  
“Would you tell us one of the stories of these future star travelers,” ask Gong Su.  
  
“Perhaps. I have a great many tales I could tell you.”  
  
“Would you tell us a tale of the country you were born in,” Gong Su asked.  
  
“I suppose I could tell you a tale that takes place in the England.” Harry looked up at the sky thoughtfully. “Let me look through the books I have. Perhaps I have something that might also teach you a bit about the culture and it social expectations of it’s citizens.”  
  
The Prince looked thoughtful. “Do so, Xiǎolóng De Fùqīn. Teach them about the westerners so that they may learn to see and hear them properly.”  
  
Harry looked over at the Prince and blushed under the intense dark gaze that seemed so familiar and so strange all at once.   
  
“Teach them of your western pride. Teach them of the prejudice they would face in your lands. Teach them how to become invisible or visible at choice among the western peoples.”  
  
“Pride and prejudice?” Harry chuckled. “Oh, I think I know a story that could work.”


End file.
